


Everything Louder Than Everything Else

by finesharp



Series: Incision [1]
Category: Repo! The Genetic Opera
Genre: Backstory, Bloodplay, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-18
Updated: 2009-11-18
Packaged: 2017-10-03 08:22:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/finesharp/pseuds/finesharp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luigi has never been very good at articulating what he wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything Louder Than Everything Else

**Author's Note:**

> This is for [](http://amberswansong.livejournal.com/profile)[**amberswansong**](http://amberswansong.livejournal.com/)

1.

Luigi is looking at his fourth birthday and he's just buried his mother. He is old enough to miss her, old enough to know something is very wrong, but not quite old enough to know or understand what it is. He slept on top of the comforter every night for a week, because she made the bed with him that last time and he knows she won't do it again.

When he comes back from the funeral and finds a maid in his room, laying down new sheets, he just reacts. He screams at her, and she looks at him. He throws himself at her, beating at her legs with his fists. She speaks a little English and no Italian, and she has been expressly forbidden to touch any member of the family, and all she can do is apologize in confused Spanglish.

Unable to get the response he wants from her, Luigi picks up the first thing that comes to hand and throws the tin train with all the force he can muster. It isn't much, but his aim is good and the edges are sharp. When she sees the blood from the shallow cut running down her face, she screams and faints.

Frustrated, unable to control himself, Luigi picks up the train and brings it down on her head again. And again. Until finally it's his own shouting that brings other adults, and the maid isn't moving anymore. His father's assistant is the one who looks in, pulling Luigi away from the woman and turning very pale.

"Mister Largo? I think-" He makes a gagging noise and disappears. Luigi begins screaming again, tired of everyone ignoring him. Finally his father appears.

"Papa!" Luigi yells, running to him.

"Shh, Luigi, shh," his father says, but it is Papa's girlfriend who picks him up and holds him away from her, complaining about what a mess he is. Luigi screams again, trying to wiggle out of her grip.

"Why don't you love me, Luigi?" she asks, but he doesn't know how to answer. "I'm your Mommy now. You have to love me."

Luigi finally gets loose and goes to his father, bending over the woman on the floor. He watches as the half-made sheet is pulled loose and draped over her.

"She's not worth crying over," Papa says, and Luigi isn't sure whether he means the maid or his mother. Someone comes in and moves the body, and someone strips Luigi of his sticky clothes, and he hears his father in the other room saying it is just an accident. The sheets and the train are gone long before he is tucked into bed that night.

He dreams of blood, but he doesn't scream and he doesn't cry.

2.

Luigi is looking at a twelfth birthday party that's happening at the same time as Carmela's first and the grand opening of the new GeneCo building on Sanitarium Island. The party is bigger than he likes, but since he's nominally being celebrated (he knows it's really about his father) he can't leave either. He grumbles at the security force, he punches Pavi in the back, but nothing really makes it better. All he can do is wait it out, and since it's the first time since Carmela's mother died that the Largos have been out in public, it takes hours for the press and the socialites to get their fill.

They actually moved into the building two weeks ago, and Luigi's spent the days since dangling Pavi off the balcony by his ankles and ordering people around - he loves that he can always find someone to yell at.

Long after he was supposed to be in bed, not that anyone would tell him to go even on a regular night, Luigi steps into the elevator with his father. Security is throwing out the last of the stragglers and Rotti is carrying his sleeping daughter upstairs.

"Why are we way out here, Dad?" Luigi asks. All of the familiar lights of Los Angeles are far away across the water, nothing more than bright, low-lying stars.

"When Carmela's mother died," his father says, "a lot of people said it was a sign that something was wrong with GeneCo. We have to prove them wrong."

"So you bought a graveyard?"

"The city practically gave it to me when I asked." But people always give his father what he wants and so Luigi doesn't dwell on this.

"Can I hold her?" he asks, changing the subject.

"Make sure you support her head," his father says automatically, handing the sleeping girl to him. Luigi mostly ignores the instruction, holding her and studying her.

"How come mothers die?"

Rotti swallows hard. "Lots of people die, Luigi. Everyone dies eventually."

"You don't. She won't. I'll protect her."

"You do that. You should take care of your brother, too, you know. That's what big brothers are supposed to do."

Luigi shakes his head as the elevator stops. The doors open. "Nah, Pavi'll be okay. She's a girl, though, so I have to make sure she doesn't die."

His father starts to say something, but he stops. Luigi steps out and starts down the hall to the nursery. Rotti can only follow.

3.

Luigi is looking at nineteen and looking forward to celebrating with Marissa. She's the first girl who's ever kept up with him, the first one who didn't pander because of his last name, and he's been doing this for almost a year now and he's starting to wonder if this is love.

She always plays rough with him and she loves the edge of the knife as much as he does, or at least he thinks so. She never cuts as deep.

He's got class on Monday, and though he could blow that off, Marissa's been on him about that. Other things too - she doesn't like the way he drinks after a rough exam, and sometimes she complains about how he spends his money. Wastes, she says. But money's like water to Luigi - it doesn't exist to be held, it's just something that flows to him and away from him.

Tonight it's flowing away, as he celebrates his birthday with a Saturday night dinner at a nicer restaurant than some of his classmates have ever been in before, and he's in a good mood so every waitress that refills his wine gets a hundred dollar bill for the trouble.

Later he gets his favorite present, Marissa shuddering underneath him as Luigi draws neat little lines on her abdomen with a razor. He's getting caught up in the sight of it, the lines getting deeper and turning as jagged as his breathing.

One cut goes too deep and she yelps in pain, swatting his hand away from her.

"I'm not fucking done," he grumbles at her. Even the last cut is barely bleeding and he feels like she's all foreplay and no follow through.

"Just finish," she mumbles. "I've got work tomorrow."

He presses hard with the razor, trying to draw the reaction he wants out off his body. She shouts and pulls away.

"Dammit, Luigi," she snaps. "That hurt."

"It's supposed to fucking hurt," he answers, trying to pull her back.

"Don't be a dick." She grabs the hand with the blade. "Can't you just finish yourself off?"

"Hell of a birthday present, Riss. Fuck you."

"You're certainly trying," she said. "If you're so determined to keep me awake you could at least share some of those hundred dollar bills with me. If I didn't have to work you could cut on me all night."

"I thought you liked paying your own way."

"I do, most of the time. But you could fucking offer."

"Fine, call off tomorrow, I'll make it up," he says, exasperated.

"Thanks, Luigi," she says, relaxing. "I don't mean to be such a bitch."

"Whatever." He wants to get back to the fucking.

She curls up against him, her fingers playing over his chest and then wandering lower. "You're supposed to apologize."

Luigi ignores her, angling his cock back inside her and then, even before he's finished the thrust, he's bringing the razor back to her skin.

"Dammit, Lu, can't you fuck me without that for once?"

"No." He doesn't elaborate.

"Normal people don't do this shit all the time," she complains, but he's ignoring her, dragging the blade across her skin again.

Marissa tries to push him away and he lashes out, and this time it's the hand with the razor in it. The cut trails across her chest, shallow over her collar bone and deep enough to see the fat beneath the skin by the time it reaches her nipple.

She screams his name and tries to pull away but he's too far gone to hear her. The razor just keeps going deeper and he doesn't think he's ever felt so fucking good in his life as he does with her fighting underneath him as she bleeds out.

He skitters away from her body almost before he's finished coming, trying to avoid the blood, but there's a lot of it. He knows she's dead and he knows he's a long way from home and for a minute he's almost scared. He reaches for his phone.

"Papa," he says, and he hasn't called his father that since Pavi was a baby. "I know it's late, but I... I need your help."

There's silence, maybe hesitation, and Luigi thinks it lasts forever. "Of course," his father says, though his voice is strained. "What is it?"

"I... Marissa and I were arguing. It was an accident."

His father sighs heavily. "Don't worry, I'll make sure it's cleaned up. You know none of your little girlfriends are worth the scandal it would cause if I didn't."

The phone disconnects and the room is very, very quiet as Luigi sits down to wait.

4.

Luigi is looking at twenty-seven and he is too drunk to stand up and he wants to get the hell out of this building and this island and California. It's been six weeks since he went looking for Lila - to apologize, and to propose, his father be damned - and found her dead instead. He came home, not knowing what else to do.

Last night he got so drunk at the GeneCo holiday celebration that one of his father's henchgirls had to carry him upstairs before the last act was finished. He remembers Carmela standing beside him in the elevator. He remembers that she smelled like cinnamon and cocoa.

It's noon and he's started drinking again to keep the hangover at bay, so he's already buzzed when his father walks in without knocking, a henchgirl close behind. Luigi is sitting at his desk in boxers and socks and an unbuttoned shirt, flicking through the news and entertainment feeds on his tablet and finding nothing he wants to look at. He doesn't look up, but he can hear his father moving around.

Rotti clucks disapprovingly and looks for someplace to sit. The maids have never been allowed in his room here and Luigi's in no mood to make the bed so everything is disheveled. Throwing up his hands in defeat, his father remains standing.

"Luigi. I told you she wasn't worth it," the older man says. Rotti's words are stiff and his accent is noticeable, as if the words are coming from a disused source that hasn't been oiled properly in years. "She's not worth this. You're going to kill yourself, and a new liver won't stop you if you really want that. She's not worth embarrassing me over, especially now that she's dead."

Luigi waits to see if that's all. There's only silence and his father's hand suddenly heavy on his shoulder.

"Fuck you, Dad," he says, and he's gripping the desk so tight he thinks it will come apart. "I'm tired of your fucking mandates. I'm an adult."

"Are you?" Rotti scoffs. "You take my money, you run back to my home as soon as you get in trouble. You're more of a teenager than your sister is."

"I did what you told me, like a good fucking boy. I broke up with her, and she got killed anyway."

"You say that like I had something to do with it." There's a threat in his father's voice.

Luigi thinks of his mother suddenly, and how she and his father fought in the year between their separation and her death. He thinks of the other women who've come and gone. "Just because your girlfriends fucking die on you doesn't mean I have to be miserable."

"Luigi-"

"You didn't leave the house for six fucking months after Carmela's mother died. We didn't see you for a week after Marni ran off. God dammit, Dad, you of all fucking people should understand what I'm going through!"

Now, finally, he's gotten through. "Do not _dare_ bring Marni into this. If you-"

"If I hadn't what? Flirted with her? Brought Nathan up? Fuck you. She made her mistakes and she died for them, I think you can fucking forgive her now."

"You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Maybe I don't. All I know is I don't want to end up like you, where everyone I love ends up dead."

"In that case, Luigi, you should stop killing them."

There's not even a rational response left in Luigi's brain at this point. He pulls the knife even though he knows the henchgirl is right there, and that she will react if he tries anything. It's useless. As far as Luigi can see, his father is immortal and omniscient. He expects the old man to outlive all three of them.

Luigi does it anyway, because sometimes you want a fucking rifle in your face, you need the pain of a woman turning your own knife on you and digging it in.

"Elizabeth, no," his father says, but underneath Luigi thinks he is saying yes. The henchgirl drops him immediately and he lands hard on the tile floor.

"We'll talk later, when you're sober." His father means it to be biting but Luigi is used to that tone. Luigi watches as the henchgirl holds the door and then hands it to his father so he can slam it shut.

He sits in silence, trying to decide what to do, if he even wants to do anything, when the door opens again. He tenses.

"Luigi? Are you okay?" It's just Carmela, and the relief washes over him and retreats, dragging some of the rage back out to sea. She's wearing a short designer dress and her face is all made up. He figures she must have been on her way in or out when she heard the yelling.

"Am I ever?" he asks and he hates the words as they come out of his mouth.

"Sure you are. Stuff pisses you off, but you're Luigi fucking Largo, remember? You never let me forget it." She climbs onto his bed and sits against the pillows, stretching her legs on top of the rumpled sheets. Luigi falls back against the bed and she reaches down, drawing her fingers through his hair.

He curls up against her then, his face on her thigh and his fingers lazily circling he knee and moving northward. He doesn't mean anything by it, not at first. It's little Carma, even if she's not so little anymore, and they've been holding each other since she was old enough to hold things.

She tenses at his touch when he's halfway up her thigh, with a little squeak, and her grip tightens in his hair.

And maybe, he thinks, maybe Pop was right when he said no one was good enough for a Largo.

Except, of course, another Largo. And Carmela smells so damn good.

He knows on some level that this is wrong even as he tugs on her panties, but he's spent most of his life ignoring that shit and he's sure as hell not going to start now, not when she's as warm and sweet in his arms as ever and she's kissing him like she knows it'll save his life.

But then Carmela's always expected her brother to save her. He thinks it's time she saved him in return.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [(But I Won't Do That)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24220) by [amberswansong](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amberswansong/pseuds/amberswansong)




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